


Learning Curve

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Driving, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:52:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet another fic about Cas learning to drive the Impala. He does not crash her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Cas had been hesitant to drive, even with Dean being more than enthusiastic to show him. He knew how protective Dean was of the Impala. How Sam was hardly ever allowed to drive it. He also knew how slow he had thought cars were when he was an angel. 

Now though, behind the wheel, the engine rearing and begging him to go, he felt fast, too fast. He felt like he didn't have enough control, like the vessel of the vehicle was much too large. He was terrified, to say the least, and that was after two months of testing out how to drive on cars Dean had either found or stolen. 

He was a good driver, even if he was a bit too cautious, the idea of driving so foreign to him. He was a good student though, knew the mechanics, knew how to do what he needed. 

In the Impala though, he froze. It would take him ten minutes just to turn her out of a driveway, he was so frightened of damaging her. He didn't want Dean to be angry. 

It was a month of easy driving, just a few blocks, never too fast, before Cas started to relax, another until Dean thought he could go into town with her, as long as they didn't go above 50mph. 

Dean was in the passengers seat, keeping an eye on Cas and the music down. While he thought Kansas was calming to Cas it was a distraction and it frayed at his nerves. He could see how anxious Cas was about driving, how often he looked around to make sure that there were no cars coming too close, and it took them a good extra twenty minutes to reach their destination. 

They were there for Sam, picking up some light reading from the library. Dean hadn’t realized that A Tale of Two Cities was considered light reading, but after all of those tomes in the batcave, an encyclopedia would be breeze to read.

Cas was glad to get out of the Impala, inspect her, and follow Dean inside. Dean told him that he had done well and in a few more months they’d have to see about getting the new human a drivers license, or at least, updating Jimmy’s. 

When they got back Cas was much more comfortable, much more relaxed with his driving. Having gotten there in one piece, he was sure that they would have no problems making it back. 

It was around 5 o’clock though, rush hour, and the cars were crowded much tighter than they had been before. Cas inched and squeezed, trying to keep as much distance between them and the other cars as possible. 

It wasn’t until they were almost out of town that traffic picked up. Most people wanted to stay inside of the town, but there were some people commuting further, as well as a couple of young kids racing. They had Cas on edge, but he knew how to keep his distance and allowed them the right of way.

The only problem was that there were more of them than they had expected.

Cas was finally getting back to speed, sure that the only people left were the sane commuters, but he was wrong. There was one lone teen chasing after the rest, his gas guzzler smoking and spewing as it chugged along, unable to keep up with the others. 

He was trying to go fast, not really paying attention to the other drivers and, well, Cas tried to stay away. 

Cas shouted and swerved and slammed on the breaks. 

One of his arms straightened, grabbed Dean’s chest and pushed him back into the seat, better than a seat belt would work.

None of that could stop the impact.

There was a terrible squeal of tires scraping pavement, trying to stop. There was glass breaking. There was screaming. There was blackness and unconsciousness, the frame of the Impala crumpled along with the frame of the gas guzzler.

Dean was panting, shaking, his fingers not listening to a thought he had. His body wasn’t responding quite right. He strained against the pinched seatbelt, pushing away the arm that had fallen limply into his lap. 

He stared at it. Cas’s arm shouldn’t be limp.

He turned to the new mortal, eyes going wide as he saw what was wrong with Cas. He could see broken skin, glass digging into an eye and softer areas of Cas’s skull, could hear Cas’s ragged breathing. 

Dean was fine. He had a bit of a concussion and his ears were ringing, but he was fine. Cas was his only concern. 

He could hear the sirens in the distance, knew that somehow, someone was coming for them. They wouldn't be there soon enough, not soon enough for Cas to be okay. Dean still had time before they got there, still had time to hold him and love him and keep him grounded, keep him going. 

He unbuckled Cas and caught him as he limply fell to the side. His eye, the one without the glass embedded deep inside of it, was closing slowly, he was still there, still conscious. 

Dean reached out, took his bloody and bleeding head in his hand, cradled it as he shifted, tried to move Cas from where he was and onto Dean’s chest, into comfort. 

The man just whimpered in response to that and Dean stopped, looking for what could cause pain in such a simple motion. The door of the Impala was buckled and crinkled, like a bad idea, and the sharp metal had ripped in places, embedding itself deep into Cas’s side. The car was a part of him now and the EMTs, if they ever got there, would have to cut the door apart in order to get him out of the car.

Cas tried to say something, tried to keep his focus on Dean, but all that came out was a garbled mess of sound. Dean shushed him, it wasn’t important, what was important was Cas surviving this. He stroked Cas’s face, trying to provide comfort but ending up just smearing glass and sending glass shards deeper into Cas’s skin. 

“Shhh.” he soothed, “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. An ambulance is going to be here, any minute, you’ll see. They’ll patch you up, good as new.”

Cas coughed, shallow to avoid more pain, and a splatter of blood coated his lips. He tried to speak again and his voice was hoarse and jumbled. “S-sorry.”

“What? Cas, there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“The. The Imp.ala. I. I ruined. it.”

Dean kissed the fluttering eyelid, “No. No Cas, you didn’t. You did great.”

“I’m a.A bad driv.er.”

“You’re a good driver, Cas. Once you’re all fixed up we’ll go driving again. This wasn’t your fault, Cas. You couldn't have prevented this.”

Dean looked over, tried to see the culprit, the bastard punk that had hurt his angel so terribly. There was no seatbelt, no airbags, just a broken windshield with an idiot teens head slammed through it. He hadn't made it, which meant Dean couldn't kill him for what he’d done. 

“Dean?” Cas’s fingers were weak but they were reaching, trembling into Dean’s palm. Dean clutched them, kissing the tips, waiting for Cas to continue “Cold. Is it. Normal to be. So cold?”

“Sorry Cas.” Dean moved his lips to Cas’s forehead, ignoring the blood on his lips. The ambulance was outside of the car, he could hear them rushing about. It wouldn't be long now. “Yeah, it’s normal. You’re probably in shock and. And you’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re going to be okay though. You’ll warm up soon.”

The EMTs checked the dead teen first, then Dean. It was impossible to get to Cas from any angle without moving the totalled gas guzzler or the concussed human first. When they tried to move Dean though, Cas’s fingers tightened, a little bit of strength in all that weakness and pain. 

“It’s okay.” Dean promised, letting his hand go. “I’ll be waiting for you.


	2. Chapter 2

A bit after the crash, Sam's phone started to ring. He was trying to take a nap but when he saw it was Dean he shrugged and got up. He hurt too much to sleep anyway.  
Sam: Hey, Dean, how's it going?  
Dean:  
Dean:  
Sam: You okay?  
Dean: Uh, yeah, I'm... I'm okay.  
Sam: You're not. I can tell when you're not.  
Dean:  
Sam: Dean? Come on. You're scaring me here.  
Sam: What did Cas crash the Impala or something?  
Dean: *sniffs*  
Sam: Oh God.  
Sam: He didn't did he?  
Sam: What are you going to do? Dean? Please... Please don't be mad at him, you know how new he is to this stuff.  
Sam: Dean?  
Dean: *exhales*  
Dean: he didn't crash the car Sam.  
Sam: Oh. Thank God. What's going on then?  
Dean: Someone hit us.  
Sam: WHAT?  
Dean: We were driving home, we got your stupid book and we. We were heading home. These kids. Theses stupid punk ass kids were racing and.  
Dean:  
Sam: It's okay Dean. Everything's going to be okay.  
Dean: And one of them slammed into the Impala. Cas...  
Sam: Is he okay?  
Dean: No. Oh God Sammy. He's not okay. He's not okay at all.  
Sam: Where are you? I'll hitch hike, get there as soon as I can.  
Dean: We're at the hospital...  
Sam: Is he?  
Dean: No! No. He's. He's not doing well. He's in surgery right now and. They. They don't think...  
Sam: Dean. He's a tough little guy. He's going to be fine.  
Dean: I don't know Sam. I just. I don't know.  
Sam: I'll get there when I can. You just hold on, alright? Keep him together.  
Dean: Yeah. Yeah.


	3. Chapter 3

Cas woke up three days later, every part of him aching, feeling constricted. He was tied up, cords and wires hooking him up to machinery, tubes to blood packs and water and food. His eye was heavy, the other wasn’t opening at all, and he fell asleep almost immediately. 

He wasn’t sure if he really did hear his name being called, if he really did feel pressure on his fingers from another’s hands, of he really did see a forest of green and a constellation of freckles.

—————-

Cas woke slowly and with a grown, the light outside too bright. It was day five now and the pain had not receded. It was livable though, the hum of morphine coating each ache and jabbing pain.

“Hey, you awake Cas?” Dean asked, leaning over him. There wasa bandage over a massive bruise in his hairline and a worried expression on his face. His lip was shaking as he spoke. 

“Dean.” Cas grumbled, unable to make his voice heard. He felt weak, his throat dry and cracked. 

He noticed that Dean’s fingers were wrapped in his own, that the Winchester was squeezing them gently. He squeezed them back as the rest of his senses started to wake up. 

There was the buzz of machinery, beeps of life support systems, and voices from outside. Everything was a terrible beige color and Cas could tell that he wasn’t in the same clothing as before, that there were bandages and gauze tightly binding him. 

“Where?”

“You’re in a hospital, Cas. I told you, you’d be okay. You’re okay, you’re fine. The doctors patched you up really good,”

Cas wasn’t so sure though. Dean looked too worried and he wasn’t making eye contact. Cas couldn’t see him quite right either, it was like looking through his peripheral vision. 

He reached up, wincing at the pain in his side, trying to touch his eye, figure out what was wrong. Dean moved fast though, grabbed his wrist, wouldnt let him feel what he knew wasnt right.

“Don’t, Cas. Just don’t okay?”

Cas tried to make eye contact, tried to understand. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Dean was shaking even further, clutching Cas’s fingers to the point that they hurt. His eyes were turning red, tears welling up in them. “They couldnt save it, Cas. They tried but, there was glass in it, a lot of it. They had to remove your eye.”

Cas stiffened, not sure how to respond. On one hand there was the chance that Dean was joking but, well, Dean didnt look like he was joking. He must really be missing an eye. He closed the remaining one and a small smile creeped over his face. He had to make Dean feel okay, no matter what. A joke popped into his head. Dean liked jokes, even if Cas was terrible at them.

“I guess that means I’ll only be staring at you half as much.”

Dean looked at him, finally, and he tried to smile, tried to laugh at the pathetic excuse of a joke, but nothing came out. He just looked so uncontrollably sad. Cas closed his eye, not wanting to see that. 

“Don’t fret, Dean. Please.” he begged, “Don’t look so sad.”

Dean buckled, the tears sliding down the rough skin of his cheeks as he leaned forward, touching their foreheads together. “I can’t help it Cas. I was so scared. I thought I lost you. I want you to be better. I wish this had never happened.”

“I shouldn’t have been driving.” Cas’s voice hitched. “I shouldn’t have tried. I’m not a good driver Dean. You must be so mad at me for what I did. If you were driving, none of this would have happened. You would have gotten us out of the way.”

Dean rubbed circles into the webbing between Cas’s thumbs and fingers, “No. Cas. There was nothing you could do. I’ve told you this. If I had been driving the only difference is that I would be the one in that bed right now.”

“Well then.” Cas forced another smile, “I guess it’s a good thing I was driving. Means you’re safe.”

“I guess.”

“Where is she?” Cas asked, opening his eyes to find Dean’s tears drying.

“She’d been towed. Sam had to go pick her up, get her towed back home. She’s in pretty bad shape but I guess that give me something to do while you’re healing up.”

“Is there anything to save?”

“There’s everything.”

—————

The Impala was half fixed up when Cas finally made it back to the batcave. He wasnt completely healed up but it was good enough for him to leave the hospital at least. 

The bandages had been removed from his face, replaced with an eyepatch, and many of the other gauze wrappings had been removed, replaced with patches and bandages as well. 

His side was pinched, where the door had pierced the skin was curved in on itself, making it look like it was being sucked into his body. 

He couldnt actually walk yet, the pain of it too much, and the morphine wasnt doing as much as it really should have. 

He was worried too. Dean hadnt been there to bring him home from the hospital. Sam alone had come and Cas could tell that the younger Winchester wasn’t doing well himself. The pain of the trials was taking a lot out of him. Still, he didnt complain as he drove or wheeled Cas in his wheelchair into the batcave.

There was no ramp to the door, but someone had laid down a metal plank, just wide enough for the wheelchair to go down.

The inside of the bunker smelled amazing, sweetness and heat and meat and everything that smelled like Heaven after the smell of the hospital. Sam wheeled Cas into the dining room, where there was soup, pie, burgers, salads, all sorts of things laid out. Dean was setting the table, turning to smile as Cas came in. 

He smiled, It was a huge, genuine smile, not the faked pain thing from a week before. 

“I hope you’re hungry Cas.” Dean chuckled.

“You made all of this.” Cas smiled back.

“Yeah. I didnt want you getting stomach rot from all that bad hospital food.”

Sam pushed Cas in, right in front of a plate while Dean piled food onto it, ready to spoil their angel. Sam fell into a chair and let the pain consume him, the stoicism from before leaching his strength. Cas felt bad about that and was about to offer sharing his morphine when Dean decided to spoil him further.

Setting the serving utensils down, Dean dropped to his knees, pushing the chair so that they could face each other. 

“Are you okay, Cas?” he asked, a hand reached up to stroke Cas’s stubble, which had started to grow in thick without the care of a razor.

Cas nodded, “It’s good to be home.”

“I’m glad. I, uh. We, Sam and I. We’re saving up money, each time we buy something we’re taking some money out, setting it aside.”

“That’s stealing.”

“We’re stealing anyway. Cas. We’re saving up so we can get you a new eye. It won’t work, it will just be glass, and. And it won’t be as pretty as it should be. But we can get it for you. You wont have to look like a pirate anymore.”

Cas crumpled forward, leaning his forehead against Dean’s like he had in the hospital. He liked that position, liked having the ability to breathe in Dean’s air. 

“You don’t have to.” he murmured.

“I want to. I want you to be happy, Cas.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll still be ugly. Once the scar tissue comes in, my body is just a gnarled mess now. And. I am happy, Dean. I don’t need glass eyes to be happy.”

“Oh God.” Sam groaned.

“You’re gorgeous, Cas.” Dean corrected, “And I don’t believe you.”

“You care about me.” Cas took Dean’s cheeks in his hands, “And you aren’t mad at me for wrecking the Impala. I can’t be happier.”

“Get out of here.” Sam was a bit louder.

“I’ll have to keep trying then.” Dean chuckled, “I’ll make you happy, Cas, I swear. I’ll do the best I can.”

“Just get a room!” Sam practically shouted, drawing the three of them into laughing.


End file.
